


Untitled

by dendrite_blues



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: And never let you forget who put you there, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kneeling, Light Angst, Like he gon do all the work and carry your ass to the top, M/M, Politics, Pre-Canon, Secret Relationship, Viren got that power bottom energy like woah, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 02:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendrite_blues/pseuds/dendrite_blues
Summary: Harrow itched for Viren's attention—preferably undivided, but he wouldn’t begrudge even a distracted glance.





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> Wow what a fun, uplifting new show. What's that? There are sass daddies???? Estranged sass daddies??? Estranged sass daddies that canonically dominate each other?@#! DIS MY SHIT.

Harrow entered Viren’s study to the sound of rustling paper and cursing. It was not an unusual experience, since his lover's promotion to Chief Royal Adviser. A carved wooden chair sat by the hearth so he took it, waiting for his lover to acknowledge him.

“Wilan requests my presence at the granary next Thursday, but the Duchess is holding a banquet at the same time. You’ll go, won’t you? She likes you.” Viren mumbled without pausing in his writing.

A service tray balanced on the edge of the desk, lunch barely touched and left to stale. Harrow itched for Viren's attention—preferably undivided, but he wouldn’t begrudge even a distracted glance.

“Don’t you ever get tired of changing clothes and bowing?”

“I am used to it.” Viren said, dipping his quill. “Changing clothes is hardly arduous. Do you dislike your valet? I can have him replaced.”

“I dislike spending our people’s tribute on meaningless bribes and finery.” Harrow growled.

Viren looked at him, finally. He set his quill on the ink tray and stretched his arms overhead with a pop of stiff joints. The blotches under his eyes were deep.

A year ago they both turned eighteen, and all the world seemed their playground. Then reality closed in like castle walls.

Harrow’s will eroded with each day. He knew he must produce an heir, and even Viren’s most devious spell work could not change the mechanics of childbirth. Worse, it seemed nothing he did could capture Viren’s attention these days. His only concerns were charms and banquets. Endless tricks and maneuvers to solidify Harrow’s rule.

“Those ‘meaningless’ bribes keep this country afloat. It’s a tradition older than both of us, and it will continue long after we’re gone if we do not play our cards right.” Viren warned.

“Fine,” Harrow said, rubbing at his own tired eyes and adjusting his hair, “What would you have me wear for the Duchess?”

‘Were it my choice, you’d wear nothing at all.” Viren said slyly.

“Pity. You won’t be there to see it.” Harrow replied, forcing himself to his feet and stalking to the desk. He hoped it looked enticing. Seduction was not his talent.

Viren looked like an incubus in his evening wear. Swaths of silk and beads hanging from his shoulders and his waist cinched to an improbable proportion. His fingers drew enticing circles around his belt closure and glided down his hips to push is legs apart. It was all the invitation Harrow needed to sink to his knees and bury his face in the sleek fabric.

“Then perhaps you’ll give me a private show later?” Viren suggested, hands sliding through the rows of Harrow’s locked hair to knead at the meat of his shoulders.

“It would cause a scandal for our attire to match.” Harrow joked, rumbling the words into his lover’s lap.

Slow and deliberately, he worked his way up Viren’s thighs. His fingers pressed to relieve his tension as they slid up and down the satin slacks and his lover melted. His hands tightened along Harrow’s neck, hungry and scratching.

“So filthy." Viren groaned, heels pressing into the small of Harrows back. "My king on his knees for me.”

Harrow gave his answer with action, lips ghosting over the hidden line of Viren’s shaft. His lover rubbed against his face eagerly, hands tight on the arms of the chair. Harrow thrilled at his pleasure, such a rare sight. They had been out of sync for so long.

He risked a glance at Viren’s face, wanting to see the burning in his eyes, and Harrow’s heart plummeted. His lover looked stricken, his eyes wide and body tense. Then Harrow heard it too. Footsteps.

The door rattled on its hinges, and swung open.

“Marius!” Viren said, springing to his feet and bounding around the desk at lightning speed.

“My apologies, my Lord. I don’t wish to interrupt your work.” a rolling tenor said mere feet away.

Harrow shoved himself under the desk as best he could, which was not at all. Containing his frustration was like corralling a spooked horse, but he suffered it. They could not be public. It would destroy the tenuous stability Viren worked so hard to build.

“No, dear friend, I am the one who should apologize. I got carried away. Come, regale me of your exploits in Caldera.”

“But what of your work? I don’t want to bother you-“

“It’s nothing important.” Viren insisted genially, guiding the man away.

The latch clicked and the footsteps faded, but Harrow stayed frozen behind the desk.

Nothing important, his mind echoed. Nothing important.

He knew Viren’s words were lies. Told to protect their reputations, no less. They stung all the same.

He needed to change into his own finery. To appear in the great hall as though returning from his own business. He did not. He sat under the desk for what felt like an eternity and ground his teeth to dust.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment. I have a longfic that I need to finish, but I'll find time to continue if there's an audience. Thanks for reading!


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